


But Cyclonusss!  It’ll Fit!

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: BINGO!, M/M, all sales are final, author claims no responsibility to broken brains, thank you and come again!, uh... brain bleach may be required
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 01:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> It <i>will</i> fit, and Tailgate’s been trying to convince Cyclonus of this for a while, but now he’s got proof!</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Cyclonusss!  It’ll Fit!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Masqueadrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masqueadrift/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Cyclonus/Tailgate, Chromedome/Rewind  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky, Crack  
>  **Notes:** Masq enabled me because I made the mistake of saying “LOL, I could stuff all four remaining tropes into one fic and complete my Bingo Blackout.” I’d say I’m sorry, but I make a point of avoiding lying to you guys too much.

The _pat-a-ting-pat_ of Tailgate’s feet sounded from down the corridor long before he reached Cyclonus, and for a moment, the old warrior considered turning right back around but hiding was beneath him.

“Cyclonus! Cyclonus!” Tailgate called, then nearly tripped as he glanced back over his shoulder.

Frowning, Cyclonus crouched and caught the blue and white mech by his shoulders. “Are you in danger?”

“What? No.” But instead of pulling back, Tailgate pressed tight to Cyclonus’ chest and stared up at him. “But I’ve got _proof_ that it’ll fit now!”

“That what will-” Cyclonus cut himself off, his expression going flat. “Tailgate, I-”

“If Chromedome can clang with Rewind, then you can totally clang me.”

“Tailgate!” the warrior hissed, optics sweeping the corridor, but there was no one around to hear them. Yet.

“Look,” Tailgate said, visor narrowing at Cyclonus. “I get it, you’re afraid of hurting me, but I saw Chromedome spiking Rewind, and those jokes about him having gotten modded to smaller equipment really aren’t true.” The little mech shivered, the blue of his visor darkening. “Not true at all.”

“Primus.”

“No really,” the minibot insisted. “They were right in the records room, making out, entwined glossas and everything. _Big_ spike working in and out, in and… out… of that tight… little… valve. ‘Face me, Cyclonus. It’ll fit!”

Cyclonus stared for a moment, then shook his helm in utter disbelief, not just that this was happening, but that it was taking place in a public area, and more, that Tailgate wasn’t lowering his voice at all. Unfortunately, the little mech took the head shake as refusal instead, and whined, “But Cyclonusss! Come on! You want me! We could do this, and it’d be great. I promise, if it hurts at all I’ll say something, but you’ve gotta admit that if Chromedome can fit that monster into bitty Rewind, you can fit yours into me!”

“Well, _this_ is an interesting conversation,” Rodimus said from just behind Cyclonus.

The warrior almost flinched, then decided that hiding was not at all beneath him. It was prudent, but first he would need to make a tactical retreat.

“Cyclonus!” Tailgate called, little feet pat-a-ting-patting even faster than before as he gave chase.


End file.
